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Swamp Thing
Time quells,
Not heals
What we feel.
Gasping,
Choking for breath.
Eyes of a million stories
Angelically crafted
Dangle like carrots
A pinch ahead...
And all I could do
Was wish I was fed.
Silhouette hair
Delineates
as tangibly as allowed
The reason for air.
Where cheekbones
Pinpoint
Constellations
Of a smile.
And all I can do is just stare..
Little wallet pictures,
Cut out,
Lined up
Against office walls.
Rubbing thumb against
The glossy finish
Of them all:
Her face enclosed
In lamination
The way it is destined today.
Windows frost up
Before cold breath
And it's harder to see
With each word.
Pearl forms
Like snow flurries
Fallen upon a canvas
Perched on a building roof.
She always was the first
To taste my rain.
It's like
Ponds rippling
From dog's lapping tongue.
The more he tastes
The farther the circles
Run...
But I am temporary
Like layers of ice sheets
Frozen over the slime of swamps
As summer beckons
Its revealing heat:
Sweat will expose
The haunt.
Now here I rest:
Foldout beds
Pushed in
As I get up
To sleepwalk her pain away
Enwrapped
In a blanket of sin...
